Titanic
by AndreeaRaducan
Summary: AU. April 1912. Jennifer Jareau meets the eloquent Spencer Reid whilst travelling to New York on board the ill-fated RMS Titanic. Love knows no bounds.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A lot of effort went into this, so be nice. Here is the long awaited first chapter of my much beloved project...**

_**Titanic: The Criminal Minds Version**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, any of its characters, or any of the dialogue (which I typed out while watching Titanic)**

With its large red steam funnels, impressive height, fascinating length, and its brand new gleam, the _RMS Titanic_ stood proudly at the dock in the Port of Southampton. People, old and young, rich and poor, crowded the landside part of the dock, waving ecstatically as their loved ones boarded the fantastic vessel. Officers, from the ship, and from the dock terminal, rushed about, checking people onto the boat, passing health inspections for the third class passengers, and making sure bags were being taken in the correct direction. To say it was like a madhouse was understating the situation.

People parted as two shiny, expensive cars pulled up on the dockside, obviously carrying passengers who were extremely wealthy. They gleamed in the sunlight, but paled in comparison to the splendour of _Titanic_.

A middle aged man with a drooping eyelid stepped out of the passenger seat of one of the cars. Slowly, but holding himself up proudly, he walked around to the door to allow the occupants out. He held open the door with an air of pride about him.

A handsome young man, who was none other than William LaMontagne Jr, heir to a massive fortune, stepped out of the car, removing his hat and looking up at the splendid machine which was to carry them to America. Turning around, he held out his hand to courteously help his beautiful fiancé, Jennifer DeWitt Jareau-Strauss, out of the vehicle. As she looked up, revealing her pretty face, her expression remained neutral. To anyone walking past, she was beautiful, with golden hair that fell around her shoulders, and eyes as blue as the sky, and happy, engaged to a future millionaire.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the _Mauritania_," she said bluntly, clearly not interested.

"You can be blasé about some things, Jennifer, but not about _Titanic. _It's over 100 feet longer than _Mauritania_, and far more luxurious," Will replied, his thick Southern accent a surprise to any passing British people. Graciously, he helped Jennifer's mother, Erin DeWitt Jareau-Strauss, out of the car, holding her hand until she was balanced on the ground.

"Your daughter is far too difficult to impress, Erin," he said, a hint of amusement playing about his deep voice. Erin let out a small laugh, before turning to look at the fantastic ship before them.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable," she pondered. Will looked over his shoulder.

"It is unsinkable. God himself could not sink this ship," he said, this time, defensiveness playing about his voice rather than amusement. An elderly dock officer came running up to Will, shouting about something. As he came closer, his words became clearer.

"Sir! Sir, you have to check your baggage through the main terminal. It's round that way, sir," he instructed. Will put his hand in his pocket, and produced a few notes. Handing the man the money, he brushed him off.

"I put my faith in you good sir. Now, kindly see my man," he said flatly. The officer looked surprised.

"Yes, sir, my pleasure, sir, if I can do anything at all!" he exclaimed, slightly excited.

"Oh, yes," Will replied, walking away.

"Right," the officer muttered, a little unsure of what to do next. No sooner than that, he was approached by the middle aged man who had allowed them out of the car.

"All the trunks from that car there, 12 from here, and the safe, to the parlor suite, rooms B-52, 54, 56," he said demandingly, a hint of an Italian accent blowing through his words. In the distance, a loud whistle blew, signalling that it was getting close to departure time.

"Ladies, better hurry," Will said nonchalantly.

"My coat?" Jennifer asked, looking over her shoulder as she followed her fiancé to the boarding ramp.

"I have it, Miss," her maid replied.

xxx

The pub at the dockside was thick with cigarette smoke, and packed to the brim full of people who were anxiously waiting to see the largest ship in the world depart England. At a small, claustrophobic table in the corner sat four men, playing one the riskiest gambles in a game of cards that anyone ever saw.

"Spencer, you are crazy! You bet everything we have!" Anderson exclaimed nervously, looking at his cards. Spencer took a deep breath, and leaned into his companion.

"When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose," he replied wisely.

"You moron. I can't believe you bet out tickets!" said the larger of their playing companions, in heavy, incomprehensible Swedish.

"Sven?" Spencer asked. Sven played his move, exhaling frustratedly. Spencer slowly put a card down, and picked up another from the stack.

"All right...moment of truth. Somebody's life's about to change. Peter?" he said, leading them into the final stage. Anderson placed his cards face up on the table.

"Nothing?" Spencer asked, obviously surprised.

"Nothing," Anderson replied, sure they were about to lose everything they had.

"Olaf?" Spencer continued. Olaf placed his cards down.

"Nothing. Sven?" Spencer coaxed. Sven placed his cards confidently on the table.

"Uh-oh. Two pair. I'm sorry Peter-" Spencer started.

"You're sorry? I'm not going to see my mom! You bet all of the money!" Anderson cut it.

"I'm sorry, you're not going to see your mom again for a long time...because we're going to America! Full house boys! " Spencer yelled, throwing his cards down. Anderson looked up, ecstatic.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Spencer said excitedly, opening the sack he had for his belongings.

"Oh my god!" Anderson exclaimed, dancing around a little, waving the tickets around in the air. Spencer started to sweep the money and things they'd won into the sack, but was stopped by Olaf grabbing his collar and lifting him slightly. Olaf was cursing at him in thick Swedish. Spencer gulped as he raised his fist, preparing to punch Spencer in the face. He was surprised at the last minute when Olaf changed track and punched Sven in the face.

"Come on!" Spencer laughed.

"We're going to go home!" Anderson said excitedly.

"I'm going home!" Spencer said, hugging his friend. "I'm going to home!"

"We're going to America!"

"No mate!" the man at the counter yelled. The excitement ceased. "_Titanic_ go to America. In five minutes!" he said, pointing to the clock. A look of shock crossed Spencer's face.

"Come on! Here, let's go!" he said hurriedly, sweeping the last of the coins into the sack. They quickly exited the building, and found the dockside covered with people. Spencer was yelling excitedly as they ran through the crowds.

"We're riding in high style now! We're a couple of regular swells! We're practically goddamn royalty!" he yelled back to Anderson.

"Yes, it's my destiny! Like I told you, I'm going back to America to be a millionaire!" Anderson shot back. They changed track, and bolted in front of a horse pulling a cart, upsetting the horse, and almost being trampled.

"Bastard!" Anderson yelled, running after Spencer. "You're crazy!"

"Maybe, but I've got the tickets!...Come on, I thought you were fast!" Spencer cried out. They found the gangway ramp, and quickly sprinted the length of it, as the officers were starting to push it away.

" Wait, wait! Hey, wait! We're passengers! Passengers!" Spencer insisted, waving the tickets around.

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" the officer asked, looking at the scruffy men with disdain.

"Of course. Anyway, we don't have any lice, we're Americans. Both of us," Spencer told him. There was a moment of hesitation.

"Right. Come on board," the officer finally decided. The two leapt the gap between the ramp and the ship, and ran down the hallways.

"We're the luckiest sons of bitches in the world, you know that!" Spencer yelled as they found a way to the top of the ship. They climbed up on the railing on the top deck, waving madly to the people below.

"Goodbye!" Spencer yelled.

"You know somebody?" Anderson asked, confused. Spencer looked at him as though he had grown an extra head.

"Of course not, that's not the point! Goodbye, I'll miss you!" he replied, turning back to the dock and waving again.

"Goodbye! I'm going to never forget you!" Anderson yelled, finally understanding.

The impressive ship steamed out of the Port of Southampton, creating waves that rocked the yachts and small fishing boats. Thousands cheered and waved as it began its maiden journey, to New York.

xxx

"360, 360, oh excuse me Ma'am, 360...oh, right here," Spencer mumbled as he counted the numbers on the door. Finding the right one, he opened the door, and gave the people inside a small wave. "Hey, how you doing? Spencer, nice to meet you. I'm Spencer Reid, nice to meet you. How you doing?" he said, introducing himself as he clapped one of the two men on the shoulder. Anderson threw his sack on the top bunk and climbed up, laughing.

"Hey, who says you get the top bunk?" Spencer teased, throwing himself on the bottom bunk. The two men gave each other a confused look.

"Var ar Sven?"

**A/N: The first chapter! How'd you like it? I'm trying to adjust some of the characters so that the Criminal Minds characters are more characterised, and it's not just the Titanic characters with a different name.**

**Please, please, please read and review!**

**SQ215 xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here is the long awaited second chapter of Titanic!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own CM.**

Will sauntered slowly across the out looking deck that was a part of the suite he had paid for. It was nice day, and sunshine streamed across the hardwood flooring.

"This is your private promenade deck sir. Would you be requiring anything?" the first class steward asked. Will waved him off, shaking his head slightly.

"Hmm...excuse me," the steward said, leaving the promenade. Will stood by himself, champagne glass in hand, a thoughtful expression across his face.

Inside the suite, the maids were assisting Jennifer and her mother in their unpacking. Jennifer rifled through the paintings she'd brought for the return to America.

"This one?" the maid asked, lifting a painting out of the box they had been stored in.

"No, it had a lot of faces on it," Jennifer replied softly. Pulling out a painting, she smiled with satisfaction. "This is the one"

"Would you like all of them out Miss?" the maid asked softly, admiring one of the paintings that was resting against the couch.

"Yes...we need a little colour in this room," Jennifer replied, tracing her fingers over the painting gently, memorising every inch of it. Will's man, David Rossi, entered the room, following an officer of the _Titanic_ who was moving a very large safe.

"Put it in there, in the wardrobe," Rossi directed, pointing into the bedroom. The officer obeyed, taking the safe through to the bedroom, passing by the promenade door just as Will re-entered the room.

"God, not those finger paintin's again. They certainly were a waste of money," he scoffed, taking a sip of champagne. Jennifer rolled her eyes slightly, keeping her back turned on Will.

"The difference between Will's taste in art and mine, is that I have some. They're fascinating...like being inside a dream or something. There's truth, but no logic," she explained to the maid who was helping her unpack.

"What's the artists name?" the maid asked. Jennifer thought for a moment.

"Something Picasso...," she trailed off, still trying to remember.

"'Somethin' Picasso'. He won't amount to a thin'

"He won't, trust me," Will said scornfully, taking yet another sip of champagne as he leant against the frame.

"Put the Degas in the bedroom...," Jennifer called as she walked through to the bedroom, her voice getting quieter with each step. Will glanced at Rossi, shrugging slightly.

"At least they were cheap," he said finally. Rossi smiled slightly, before turning to one of the porters.

"Ah, put it in the wardrobe," he instructed, following the porter through to the bedroom.

xxx

Captain Gideon stood on the deck beside Mr Lynch, looking out at the magnificent ocean that lay before _Titanic_. They were steaming west from the coast of Ireland, making brilliant time.

"Take her to sea Mr Lynch...lets stretch her legs," Gideon commanded. Lynch nodded quickly.

"Yes sir" Turning around, he walked briskly into the bridge, relaying the command Mr Moody. "All ahead full, Mr Moody! Very good, very good, sir"

Mr Moody reached for the command bell, pulling the handle to ring for full steam ahead. The bells echoed through the bridge, and down below in the engine room.

Lynch walked back out to where Captain Gideon was stood. Right up at the bow, two young men were standing, watching the water split around the front of the ship, and looking out to sea.

"21 knots, sir," Lynch relayed to the Captain. Gideon nodded, looking satisfied.

"Hey, look, look, look! Look, look!" Spencer exclaimed excitedly to Anderson. He pointed down towards the water, where dolphins were leaping alongside the ship. "See it?"

Anderson leaned over the railing, looking down. The bow of the ship was chasing the dolphins through the water.

"There's another one, see him?" Spencer asked. "Look at that one! Look at him jump!" A dolphin leapt up high into the air. "Whoo-hoo!"

Grabbing the nearby rig cable, Spencer pulled himself up onto the railing, standing tall and proud at the front of the ship. "Whoo!"

"I can see the Statue of Liberty already!...Very small of course!" Anderson yelled, making Spencer laugh. Spencer let go of the cable, throwing his arms into the air.

"I'm king of the world!"

xxx

In the dining room, at a large table reserved only for the richest of passengers, sat an abundance of wealth, including the ship maker and designer themselves.

"She's the largest moving object made by the hand of man in all history. And our master shipbuilder, Mr Hotchner here, designed her, from the keel plates up," Mr Ismay was explaining.

"Well, I may have knocked her together but the idea, was Mr Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is," Hotchner said, knocking on the wooden table "willed into solid reality"

"Hear, hear," Ismay replied, gesturing proudly. Jennifer, sighing slightly with boredom, placed a cigarette in her holder, lighting it nonchalantly. Face etched with disapproval, Erin leaned forward.

"You know I don't like that, Jennifer," she scolded softly. Jennifer turned to her mother, and coolly blew smoke at her. Will sighed, shaking his head. Reaching across, he plucked it from her lips and disposed of the cigarette.

"She knows," he told Erin. Everyone at the table remained silent as the waiter approached the table. Will turned to the waiter to place the order.

"We'll both have the lamb, rare, with very lil' mint sauce. Hmm...," he trailed off. The waiter turned, returning to the kitchen. Will turned to Jennifer. "You like lamb, right, sweet pea?"

Jennifer smiled slightly, almost sarcastically. Penelope laughed.

"You gonna cut her meat for her too, there, Will?" she chuckled. "Hey, ah, who thought of the name, _Titanic_? Was it you Bruce?"

"Well, yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size, and the size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength," Mr Ismay explained to the group. Jennifer leaned forward slightly, taking a breath.

"Do you know of Dr Freud, Mr Ismay? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you," she said coolly. Mr Hotchner and Penelope both grinned, trying extremely hard not to laugh.

"What's gotten into you?" Erin asked in a shocked whisper, her eyes wide.

"Excuse me," Jennifer said softly, getting up and leaving the table.

"I do apologise," Erin said sincerely, glancing at her daughter's retreating back.

"She's a pistol, Will. Hope you can handle her," Penelope said, amused.

"Well, I may have to start mindin' what she reads from now on, won't I, Mrs Garcia?" Will drawled.

"Freud, who is he? Is he a passenger?" Mr Ismay cut in, making them laugh.

**A/N: Well, I sincerely apologise for the lateness of this update, but as always, life gets in the way, and so did my obsession with Soul Surfer, hence my new story, Soul Surfer. If you haven't read it already, I highly recommend doing so.**

**Please leave a review, this did take a few months to put together.**

**SQ215 xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I apologise for the space between updates. I'll try and get the next one out sooner.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own CM or Titanic. (Except on DVD)**

In the late afternoon sun, on the top deck of the ship, a group of third class passengers sat around, chattering loudly. Spencer sat just off to the side, sketching a young girl and her father, who were sitting quietly a little way away from the group.

"The ship is nice, huh?" Anderson asked another third class man.

"Yeah, it's an Irish ship," the man replied, a thick Irish accent flowing through his words.

"Isn't it English?" Anderson asked, confused.

"No, it was built in Ireland. 15,000 Irishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock, big Irish hands," the man said proudly, stopping as an officer walked past with two dogs. "That's typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shit"

"Uh, it lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things," Spencer chipped in.

"Like we could forget?" the man replied, leaning forward and putting his cigarette in his mouth. "Tommy Ryan"

"Spencer Reid," Spencer replied, shaking hands with Tommy.

"Hello, Spencer," Tommy said pleasantly.

"Peter Anderson," Anderson said, also shaking hands with the Irishman.

"Hi there. Do you make any money with your drawings?" Tommy asked Spencer. Spencer remained silent, looking towards the upper deck. His gaze was fixed on one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Her blonde hair was shining in the late afternoon sun. He watched as she approached the railing and leaned on it, looking out to sea.

Tommy followed the young man's gaze, chuckling slightly when he saw what had Spencer so fixated.

"Oh, forget it boyo. You'd as like have angels fly out your ass as get next to the likes of her," he said seriously. Spencer vaguely heard Anderson laughing behind him. His heart leapt slightly when the young woman turned, looking straight at him. Frowning slightly, she turned away, only to glance back to see if Spencer was still watching her.

Anderson waved his hand in front of Spencer's face, laughing when Spencer didn't move.

Will stalked up behind Jennifer, grabbing her arm roughly.

"Do you mind?" Jennifer shot coldly.

"I hope you're proud of this," Will drawled angrily. Jennifer shook her arm free, walking away from the railing, closely followed by Will.

xxx

Spencer lay on a bench on the rear deck of the ship, wrapped in his coat, watching the stars as the cold air howled around him. As he got comfortable, he heard quick footsteps approaching. Lifting his head, he watched in surprise as the young blonde from earlier ran past, slowing down to a walk a few metres before the railing, tears streaming down her face.

The young woman walked slowly towards the railing. Reaching it, she looked over into the dark, icy water as it churned through the ship's propellers. Placing her hands on the rail, she stepped up. Once she had her footing, she reached up and grabbed the light above her head. She stepped over the railing, carefully setting her feet down on the other side and turning around. Shivering in the cold air, she looked down at the dark, eerie water below her.

Spencer slowly approached the woman from behind, stopping a few feet away before he spoke. "Don't do it"

The young woman sharply turned to look at him. "Stay back! Don't come any closer!"

"Come on. Just give me your hand. I'll pull you back over," Spencer offered gently. He normally didn't talk to women...but he couldn't let her jump. He just couldn't. Looking closer at her face, he realised she was the woman he had seen earlier that day, up on the boat deck. The need to get her back to safety grew even stronger, as his heart pounded. She was beautiful...

"No! Stay where you are! I mean it! I'll let go!" she said sharply. Her eyes were almost daring him to come closer.

"No you won't," Spencer said softly, reasoning with her using the calm in his voice.

"What do you mean, no I won't? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do! You don't know me!" the woman snapped, turning back to look at the water, her blonde hair whipping around behind her.

"Well, statistically, you would've done it already. It's a known fact that anyone who is seriously going to commit suicide won't stand there and have second thoughts about it," Spencer rattled off quickly.

"You're distracting me! Go away!" the blonde shot back. Spencer raised his hands in surrender, but took another tentative step forward.

"I can't. I'm involved now. You let go...and I'll have to jump in there after you," he reasoned.

"Don't be absurd. You'll be killed!" the woman exclaimed. Spencer began to shrug his jacket off.

"I'm a good swimmer," he assured her, sliding his jacket down his arms and dropping it on the deck.

"The fall alone would kill you," the woman said quickly, trying to convince him to leave.

"It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't," Spencer replying, unlacing his boots. "To tell you the truth, I'm a lot more concerned about that water being so cold"

The woman froze, looking at him with worry, before speaking softly. "How cold?"

"Freezing. Maybe a couple of degrees over. You ever, uh...ever been to Utah?" Spencer asked. The woman frowned.

"What?"

"Well, they have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up there, near the Nevada border. I remember when I was a kid, me and my father, we went ice fishing out on Great Salt Lake. Ice fishing, is you know, where you-"

"I know what ice fishing is!" the blonde shot back angrily. Spencer raised his eyebrows, giving her an apologetic look.

"Sorry. You just, you seem like, you know, kind of an indoor girl... Anyway, I uh, I fell through some thin ice, and I'm telling you...water that cold, like right down there...it hits you like a thousand knives, stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think...at least not about anything but the pain...Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you. Like I said...," he said gently, shrugging off his coat, leaving him in only his shirt and trousers. "I don't have a choice. I guess I'm kind of hoping, you'll come back over the rail, and get me off the hook here"

"You're crazy!" the blonde exclaimed.

"That's what everybody says, but with all due respect, Miss, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship here. Come on. Come on, give me your hand. You don't want to do this," Spencer replied, moving closer and reaching out in front of her.

The young blonde slowly lifted her hand to his, wrapping her petite fingers around his open palm. Carefully, she allowed him to help her turn back to face him, gripping the rail tightly with her other hand. Looking up, she found herself looking into Spencer's deep caramel eyes. They were much warmer than Will's...

"Whew! That was close," Spencer half laughed. "I'm Spencer Reid"

"Jennifer DeWitt Jareau-Strauss," the young woman replied. Spencer laughed.

"Now, I do have an eidetic memory, but I'm going to have to get you to write that one down," he chuckled. Jennifer laughed a little as well, still gripping his hand tightly.

"Come on," Spencer said gently, keeping a firm grip on her hand as he began to help her over the railing. Jennifer raised her foot to the next rung of the railing, and as she began to step up, lost her footing and slipped. She let out a scream of fear as she fell from the edge of the ship, still gripping tightly to Spencer's hand.

"I got you! Come on!" Spencer called, mustering all his energy into pulling her back to safety.

Jennifer attempted to pull herself back up to the edge of the ship, but lost her footing again and fell back down. "Help! Please!"

Further back towards the cabins of the ship, two officers of the _Titanic_ heard anguished cries for help. Breaking into a run, they ran towards the source of the noise.

"Please help me!" Jennifer cried in fear, tears running down her face.

"Listen! Listen to me! I've got you. I won't let go. Now pull yourself up. Come on," Spencer said encouragingly. With all the strength his thin body had, he pulled her up towards the railing. "Come on. That's right. You can do it," he encouraged. With one last burst of energy, he managed to pull Jennifer back up onto the edge of the ship. "I got you"

As Jennifer managed to get her legs over the railing, Spencer stumbled back to the deck. Jennifer landed on her back, with Spencer lying half on top of her.

The _Titanic_ officers arrived, taking in the scene before them.

The young woman on the floor, her dress up past her knees, tears streaking her pale skin.

The young man lying half on top of her, his boots on the floor beside his jacket and coat.

"What's all this?" the first man asked. The young man looked somewhat guilty, and the young woman looked terrified.

"You stand back! And don't move an inch!" he yelled to the young man. Turning back to the other officer, he addressed him. "Fetch the Master-At-Arms"

xxx

Jennifer sat on a nearby bench, shivering, despite the fact that she was wrapped in a thick woollen blanket.

"Care for a brandy?" the Master-At-Arms offered, holding the glass out to Jennifer. Jennifer shook her head, turning her attention to Will as he told Spencer what he thought.

"This is completely unacceptable! What made you think that you could put your hands on my fiancé?" he yelled, getting right up close to the young man before him. Spencer glanced towards Jennifer, earning himself a rough shake of the shoulders.

"Look at me, you filth!" Will snapped.

"Will," Jennifer said gently.

Will shook Spencer's shoulders again. "What do you think you were doin'?"

"Will, stop!" Jennifer exclaimed, getting up and running over to Will. Grabbing his arm, she looked him in the eyes. "It was an accident!"

Will let go of the young man. "An accident?"

"It was. Stupid really. I was leaning over, and I slipped," she lied, looking towards Spencer. "I was leaning far over, to see the, uh...uh, the, uh...uh, the uh," she continued, making a circular motion in the air with her hand.

"Propellers?" Will suggested.

"Propellers, and I slipped! And I would have gone overboard, but Mr Reid here saved me, and almost went over himself," Jennifer finished, glancing at Spencer once more.

"You wanted to see - she wanted to see the propellers," Will laughed. The Master-At-Arms shook his head.

"Like I said, women and machinery do not mix," he sighed, sipping his brandy.

The second officer spun Spencer around. "Was that the way of it?" he asked in his Irish accent.

Spencer glanced at Jennifer, who nodded slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, that was pretty much it"

"Well, the boy's a hero then. Good for you, son. Well done. So, it's all's well, and back to our brandy, eh?" the Master-At-Arms chuckled. Will moved over to Jennifer and rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm her up.

"Look at you. You must be freezin'. Let's get you inside," he drawled. The Master-At-Arms gave a significant nod towards Spencer.

"Perhaps a little something for the boy?" he suggested.

"Of course. Mr Rossi, I think a 20 should do it," Will replied, nodding towards his man. Jennifer laughed coolly.

"Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" she asked. Will raised his eyebrows.

"Jennifer is displeased. What to do...I know," he said softly. Turning, he walked over to where Spencer was standing. "Perhaps, you could join us for dinner tomorrow evening, to regale our group with...your heroic tale"

Spencer looked uncertain about the invite. "Sure...count me in"

"Good. Settled then," Will drawled, turning and walking away with the Master-At-Arms. "This should be interesting"

"Mmmm," the Master-At-Arms hummed. Will put his arm protectively around Jennifer's shoulders and led her away for the night.

Spencer let out a whistle to grab Mr Rossi's attention as he put his boots back on. "Can I bum a smoke?"

Rossi closed the gap between them, offering him a cigarette. "You'll want to tie those," he said, pointing to Spencer's unlaced boots. "Interesting. The young lady slips so suddenly and you still had time to remove your jacket, and your shoes"

With a smile of suspicion, he turned and began to follow Will's path off the deck, leaving Spencer standing alone in the cold air.

xxx

Will entered the room as Jennifer sat in front of her mirror. "I know you've been melancholy. I don' pretend to know why," he said, walking towards the beautiful woman he was going to marry. "I intended to save this until the engagement gala, next week. But I thought tonight...," he trailed off, opening a large jewellery box to reveal a beautiful blue heart shaped diamond.

"My god," Jennifer gasped, touching the edge of the box.

"Perhaps a reminder of my feelin's for you," Will said gently.

"Is it a-"

"Diamond? Yes...," Will cut in. Lifting it from the box, he draped it around Jennifer's neck, smiling as he saw how it looked against her creamy skin. "56 carats to be exact. It was worn by Louis XVI, and they called it _La Coeur De La Mer_," he finished.

"_The Heart Of The Ocean_," they both said together.

Will chuckled. "Yes"

Jennifer sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke softly. "It's overwhelming"

"Well, it's for royalty. We _are_ royalty, Jennifer," Will said, kneeling down beside her. "You know, there's nothin' I couldn't give you. There's nothin' I'd deny you...if you would not deny me...Now open your heart to me, Jennifer"

Jennifer chose not to reply. Instead, she brought her fingertips up to gently touch the heavy heart on her chest.

**A/N: Whew! This took ages, I know. I apologise. I hope you enjoyed it! **

**Please leave a review!**

**SQ215 xxx**


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